


A Little Less Sonic

by saunteredvaguelydownward



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Mischief, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saunteredvaguelydownward/pseuds/saunteredvaguelydownward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor can't find his sonic, the TARDIS decides to lend a less than helpful hand. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Sonic

**Author's Note:**

> Per usual, I do not own Doctor Who.

His TARDIS had a screw loose. Then again, he'd always said she had a screw loose, but he had meant that was in a metaphorical sense and he wasn't one to talk on that front. But no, this time she quite literally had a wobbly piece that could threaten their flight.

Rummaging around in his jacket pockets, the Doctor searched for an easy fix. The sonic screwdriver may not have been made for wood (he made a mental note to add a wood setting, it really was getting embarrassing by this point), but even sonicified, it was still a screwdriver.

But that wasn't the problem; the problem was that it seemed to be nowhere to be found. He'd assumed it would be next to him on the floor where he sat; if it wasn't in his pocket, it must've fallen out, but also no such luck there.

"Hey, old girl," he stood up and rested his hand gently on the console. "Mind helping me out?"

From where his extra sonic screwdrivers usually popped out, a normal, human one did instead.

"Oh, real funny," he laughed sarcastically. It had been like this all morning. He couldn't fathom what he'd done wrong this time, but she was most definitely angry with him. Like the fact that he'd woken up to find his bed in the library. Not that that had bothered him so much – he really rather loved it in there, though he regretting moving the swimming pool away from it – but he was always rather dazed in the mornings. It had taken him ages to find his way back to the console room in his half-awake state.

Waiting for a minute or two, he expected her to ease up and give him back his sonic, but she seemed to be holding onto her anger. Normally, he would have been more light-hearted about it, but the chance of crashing mixed with the way his day was going, well, it was wearing on his nerves.

He rolled his eyes, taking the screwdriver. After all, it couldn't be too hard using a human tool, could it? He sat back down on the grated floor.

It was five minutes before he realized there was no button on it to press.

It was ten minutes more before he stopped pointing it at the screw, hoping for it to move itself.

It was fifteen minutes until he figured out that beating it wouldn't work either.

The most feared being in all the cosmos, the man who could make armies turn and run at the mention of his name, yet a human screwdriver had gotten the better of him.

The Doctor sighed, hoping they weren't too doomed to crash, when a sharp pain hit him in the head. Oh, great. Now she was throwing things at him. He wasn't even sure how she did half these things.

He was about to stand up and go search the TARDIS for a spare sonic – certainly he would give her a piece of his mind later – when he saw what had fallen into his lap. She had hit him with one.

He couldn't help the grin that creeped over his lips as he pressed the button on the sonic, watching the screw slide back into place. No matter how angry she was with him, he always got the last laugh.


End file.
